Babel – R.F. Kuang

Have you ever wondered how words can hold worlds within them—how a single sentence can shift power, shape destiny, and echo across generations? (Pause; let the weight of that question sink in.)

R.F. Kuang, a Chinese-American author and translator, draws on her fascination with language, history, and cultural identity to craft stories that explore power, morality, and knowledge. (Pause; slightly slower, reflective.) Her own experiences navigating multiple cultures inform the morally complex worlds she creates, making her work both intellectually rich and deeply human. (Soft emphasis on deeply human.)

Her novel, Babel, invites us into such a world, where language is not merely a tool of communication, but a force of magic, influence, and transformation. (Emphasize magic, influence, and transformation.) Set in the 1830s, the story follows Robin Swift, a boy from Canton, orphaned and taken to England by Professor Lovell, where he is trained at the prestigious Royal Institute of Translation. (Pause after Royal Institute of Translation to let the prestige register.)

From the very beginning, Robin experiences dislocation and wonder—leaving home, family, and everything familiar behind. (Slowly; emphasize dislocation and wonder.) England is rigorous, strange, and intoxicating: Latin, Greek, and magical translation open doors to knowledge and power, but they also reveal the weight every word can carry. (Pause after weight for reflection.)

What makes Babel compelling is how it marries intellectual and emotional stakes. (Slight pause; emphasize emotional stakes.) We follow Robin’s growth and moral dilemmas—his loyalty to his culture, his friendships, and his choices—while witnessing the realities of 19th-century trade and colonial ambition. (Pause to allow tension to resonate.) Each lesson, each translation exercise, becomes a test of courage, insight, and character.

Themes of identity, belonging, power, and ethics weave throughout. (Slowly; pause after each theme.) Robin’s journey asks us: What does it mean to know, truly, in a world that demands obedience and cunning? (Pause to reflect.) How do we honor our heritage while embracing a moral vision that transcends borders? (Slight lift; thoughtful tone.) And how can words, seemingly neutral, carry the weight of both creation and destruction?

Kuang’s prose is vivid, precise, and emotionally resonant. (Emphasize emotionally resonant.) The historical details—from silver trade to Britain’s imperial reach—enrich the story without overshadowing the human drama, while the magical system of translation reminds us of the power inherent in knowledge and interpretation.

So — why read Babel? (Pause; let the question linger.) Because it engages the mind, stirs the heart, and immerses you in a story where every word matters. (Pause; allow reflection.)

In the end, R.F. Kuang offers more than a tale of translation and power. (Pause; slow.) She leaves us reflecting on the responsibility of knowledge, the shaping force of language, and the courage required to wield it wisely. (Pause; finish slowly, letting the final thought resonate.)

Reading 1 (Part 2)

Perfect! I understand — you want all three readings fully edited with pauses, tone cues, emphasis, and breath indicators, keeping all text intact. Here’s the complete version for Readings 1–3, exactly as you provided, now formatted for reading aloud.

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Reading 1 (Part 2) – Reading Script with Cues

By the time Professor Richard Lovell found his way through Canton’s narrow alleys to the faded address in his diary, (slow, deliberate; slight pause) the boy was the only one in the house left alive. (pause; let it settle)

The air was rank, the floors slippery. (emphasize “rank” and “slippery”) A jug of water sat full, untouched by the bed. (pause; reflect stillness) At first the boy had been too scared of retching to drink; now he was too weak to lift the jug. (gentle, empathetic) He was still conscious, though he’d sunk into a drowsy, half-dreaming haze. (pause) Soon, he knew, he’d fall into a deep sleep and fail to wake up. (pause; heavy) That was what had happened to his grandparents a week ago, then his aunts a day after, and then Miss Betty, the Englishwoman, a day after that. (slightly faster; tension building)

His mother had perished that morning. (soft, sorrowful) He lay beside her body, watching as the blues and purples deepened across her skin. (emphasize “blues and purples”) The last thing she’d said to him was his name, two syllables mouthed without breath. (slow; let linger) Her face had then gone slack and uneven. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth. (pause) The boy tried to close her filmy eyes, but her lids kept sliding back open. (quiet, heavy tone)

No one answered when Professor Lovell knocked. (pause) No one exclaimed in surprise when he kicked through the front door – locked, because plague thieves were stripping the houses in the neighbourhood bare… (slow; tense) …and though there was little of value in their home, the boy and his mother had wanted a few hours of peace before the sickness took them too. (pause) The boy heard all the commotion from upstairs, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. (quiet, detached)

By then he only wanted to die. (slow; heavy emphasis)

Professor Lovell made his way up the stairs, crossed the room, and stood over the boy for a long moment. (pause) He did not notice, or chose not to notice, the dead woman on the bed. (soft; ominous) The boy lay still in his shadow, wondering if this tall, pale figure in black had come to reap his soul. (slow; fearful)

‘How do you feel?’ (pause; gentle) Professor Lovell asked.

The boy’s breathing was too laboured to answer. (pause; let it linger)

Professor Lovell knelt beside the bed. (slow) He drew a slim silver bar out of his front pocket and placed it over the boy’s bare chest. (emphasize “bare chest”) The boy flinched; the metal stung like ice. (pause; slow)

‘Triacle,’ (pause) Professor Lovell said first in French. Then, in English,
‘Treacle.’ (emphasize “Treacle”)

The bar glowed a pale white. (slightly slower; mystical tone) There came an eerie sound from nowhere; a ringing, a singing. (pause; let it linger) The boy whined and curled onto his side, his tongue prodding confusedly around his mouth. (soft; pained)

‘Bear with it,’ (slow, gentle) murmured Professor Lovell. ‘Swallow what you taste.’ (pause)

Seconds trickled by. (slightly slower) The boy’s breathing steadied. He opened his eyes. (soft; relief)

He saw Professor Lovell more clearly now, could make out the slate-grey eyes and curved nose – yīnggōubí, they called it, a hawk’s-beak nose – that could only belong on a foreigner’s face. (pause; reflective)

‘How do you feel now?’ asked Professor Lovell. (gentle; pause)

The boy took another deep breath. Then he said, in surprisingly good English,
‘It’s sweet. It tastes so sweet…’ (slow; emphasize “sweet”)

‘Good. That means it worked.’ (soft) Professor Lovell slipped the bar back into his pocket.
‘Is there anyone else alive here?’ (pause)

‘No,’ whispered the boy. ‘Just me.’ (quiet; heavy)

‘Is there anything you can’t leave behind?’ (slow; reflective)

The boy was silent for a moment. (pause) A fly landed on his mother’s cheek and crawled across her nose. (soft; observe) He wanted to brush it off, but he didn’t have the strength to lift his hand. (gentle; sorrowful)

‘I can’t take a body,’ said Professor Lovell. ‘Not where we’re going.’ (slow; emphasize “can’t take a body”)

The boy stared at his mother for a long moment. (pause; reflective)

‘My books,’ he said at last. ‘Under the bed.’ (soft; careful)

Professor Lovell bent beneath the bed and pulled out four thick volumes. (pause; let it register)

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Reading 2 (Part 3) – Reading Script with Cues

Two days later, Griffin asked Robin to meet him at a tavern in Iffley, nearly an hour’s walk from the college. (slow; reflective) It was a dim, noisy place. (pause) It took Robin a moment to find his brother, who was sitting slouched near the back. (soft)

Whatever he’d been up to since their last meeting, he apparently hadn’t been eating; he had two steaming shepherd’s pies before him and was wolfing one down with no fear of scalding his tongue. (emphasize “wolfing”; slightly fast)

‘What is this place?’ Robin asked. (curious; pause)

‘I get supper here sometimes,’ said Griffin. ‘The food’s awful but there’s a lot of it, and importantly, nobody from the university ever comes out here. It’s too close to the – what did Playfair call them? The locals.’ (slow; slightly sarcastic)

He looked worse than he’d been all term – visibly exhausted, hollow-cheeked, and whittled down to a sharp, lean core. (pause; descriptive) He gave off the air of a shipwreck survivor, of someone who’d travelled long distances and barely made it out alive – (emphasize “shipwreck survivor”) though of course he wouldn’t tell Robin where he’d been. His black coat, hanging off the chair behind him, reeked. (pause)

‘Are you all right?’ Robin pointed to Griffin’s left arm. (pause) It was wrapped in bandages, but whatever wound lay beneath was clearly still open, because the dark stain over his forearm had spread visibly since Robin had sat down. (soft; concerned)

‘Oh.’ Griffin glanced at his arm. ‘That’s nothing, it’s just taking forever to close up.’ (nonchalant; pause)

‘So it’s something.’ (short; firm)

‘Bah.’ (dismissive)

‘It looks bad.’ Robin chuckled, and what came next sounded more bitter than he’d intended. (pause) ‘You should suture it. Brandy helps.’ (pause)

‘Ha. No, we’ve got someone. I’ll have it looked at later.’ Griffin pulled his sleeve over the bandages. (casual; pause) ‘Anyhow. I need you ready next week. It’s very touch-and-go, so I don’t yet have a good idea of the time or day, but it’s a big one – they’re expecting a massive shipment of silver in from Magniac & Smith, and we’d love to get a crate during the unloading. It’ll take a large distraction, of course. I might need to store some explosives in your room for quick access—’ (pause; build tension)

Robin recoiled. ‘Explosives?’ (pause; shocked)

‘I forgot you scare easily.’ Griffin waved a hand. (soft; dismissive) ‘It’s all right, I’ll show you how to set them off before the day, and if you plan it well enough then no one will get hurt—’ (slow; reassuring)

‘No,’ said Robin. ‘No, that’s it, I’m done – this is absurd, I’m not doing this.’ (forceful; pause)

Griffin arched a brow. ‘Where’s all this coming from?’ (curious)

‘I’ve just seen someone expelled—’ (pause)

‘Oh.’ Griffin laughed. (short; tense)

‘Wright,’ said Robin. ‘They crushed a vial of his blood. They threw him out of the tower, locked him out, cut him off from everything and everyone—’ (pause; heavy)

‘But that won’t happen to you; you’re too brilliant. Or am I keeping you from your revision?’ (soft; teasing)

‘Opening doors is one thing,’ said Robin. ‘Setting explosives is quite another.’ (slow; firm)

‘It’ll be fine, just trust me—’ (gentle; persuasive)

‘But I don’t,’ Robin blurted. His heart beat very quickly, but it was too late now to hold his silence. (pause) He had to say it all at once; he couldn’t keep biting down on his words forever. ‘I don’t trust you. You’re getting messy.’ (pause; emphatic)

Griffin’s brows shot up. ‘Messy?’ (pause; incredulous)

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Reading 3 (Part 4) – Reading Script with Cues

They began searching the room for clues. (pause; deliberate) Victoire took the cabinet, Robin the desk. Inside the desk drawers were stacks upon stacks of Griffin’s notes and letters. (emphasize “stacks upon stacks”) These he held up to the flickering candle, squinting. (soft pause) It made Robin’s chest ache to read Griffin’s handwriting in English – a cramped, spidered style that looked so similar to Robin’s own, and to their father’s. (slow; reflective) These letters, all these narrow, bold, and crowded lines, spoke of a frenetic but meticulous writer, were a glimpse into a version of Griffin that Robin had never known. (pause; let it sink in)

And Griffin’s network had been so much vaster than he’d suspected. (slightly faster) He saw correspondence addressed to recipients in Boston, in New York, in Cairo, in Singapore. (pause; slight wonder) But the names were always coded, always obvious literary references like ‘Mr Pickwick’ and ‘King Ahab’ (emphasize names) or names so generically English like **‘Mr Brown’ and ‘Mr

Pink’** (slow; reflective) that they could not possibly be real.

‘Hm.’ Victoire held a small square of paper up to her eyes, frowning. (pause; curious)
‘What’s that?’ (gentle)

‘It’s a letter. Addressed to you.’ (soft; pause)

‘Can I see?’ (curious; slight pause)

She hesitated a moment before handing it over. ‘There on the back was his name, Robin Swift, dashed out in Griffin’s forceful scrawl. But when had he found the time to write this? (pause) It couldn’t have been after Anthony brought them to Hermes; Griffin hadn’t known where they were back then. (slow; reflective) It could only have been written after Robin had cut ties with Hermes, after Robin had declared he wanted nothing to do with him.’ (pause)

‘Are you going to read it?’ Victoire asked. (gentle; pause)

‘I – I don’t think I can.’ (soft; hesitant) He passed it back to her. He felt terrified of the contents; it made his breath quicken to even hold it in his hand. (pause; anxious) He could not face his brother’s judgment. Not now. (pause) ‘Will you keep it for me?’ (soft)

‘What if it’s something that can help?’ (pause; gentle)

‘I don’t think it is,’ said Robin. ‘I think… it has to be something else. Please, Victoire – you can read it later, if you want, but I can’t look at it right now.’ (soft; hesitant; pause)

She hesitated, then folded it into her inner pocket. ‘Of course.’ (gentle; pause)

They resumed rooting through Griffin’s belongings. Apart from letters, Griffin had kept an impressive array of weapons – knives, garrotes, a number of silver bars, and at least three pistols. (emphasize “knives, garrotes…”) Robin refused to touch them; Victoire surveyed the collection, fingers skimming the barrels, before selecting one and tucking it into her belt. (pause; deliberate)

‘Do you know how to use that?’ he asked. (curious)

‘Yes,’ she said, ‘Anthony taught me.’ (soft; confident)

‘Wondrous girl, you. Full of surprises.’ (gentle; pause)

She snorted. ‘Oh, you just weren’t paying attention.’ (light; playful)

But there was no list of contacts, no clues to other safe houses or possible allies. (pause; reflective) Griffin had shrouded everything in code, had created a network so invisible that, upon his death, it could never be reconstructed. (slow; heavy)

‘What’s that?’ Victoire pointed. (curious; pause)

Up on top of the bookshelf, pushed so far back it was nearly hidden, was a lamp. (slow; suspenseful)

Robin reached for it, hoping wildly – yes, there it was, the familiar glint of silver embedded in the bottom. (pause; emphasis) The beacon, Anthony had yelled. (soft; reflective) He thought of the burn on Griffin’s hand, of how Griffin had known, even miles away, that something awful had happened. (pause)

He turned it over, squinting. Liáo. (slow; emphasize)

Griffin had made this. Liáo, in Mandarin, could mean ‘to burn’ or ‘to illuminate.’ (pause; reflective; emphasize both meanings)

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